


Into the Ocean

by TheHuskyDragon



Series: We’re all going forward/none of us are going back [6]
Category: Death Stranding (Video Games)
Genre: Emotional Constipation, Insomnia, M/M, Masturbation, Mentioned traumatic relationships (Sam and Lucy), Mutual Pining, Narcissism, Phone Sex, The lion BT, Timefall (Death Stranding), but... one sided, i really don’t know what to tag this as, only mildly, some post-nut clarity. yknow how it is, whats it called when someone is jacking off then someone else calls and they answer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-18 03:50:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21771283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHuskyDragon/pseuds/TheHuskyDragon
Summary: ”... Higgs?Are you jacking off?”
Relationships: Sam Porter Bridges/Higgs Monaghan
Series: We’re all going forward/none of us are going back [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1551493
Comments: 5
Kudos: 178





	Into the Ocean

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! This chapter is kinda a few days early, I won’t have chapters a literal, by-the-second week apart.
> 
> Title is song by Blue October. I really... didn’t have a song for this chapter pre-planned lmao
> 
> I also never mention this, but I don’t beta my work! So it may be painfully obvious in some parts :,)

Higgs can’t sleep. 

He’s been up for _maybe_ ten consecutive hours now, not that that means much, but he can’t. fucking. _sleep_. He’s done three—four missions now. They aren’t particularly hard. Or long. And they barely fill the void with oxytocin and validation. 

_Fuck_ . “You aren’t Sam,” no bitch! You didn’t even order for him! “You’re about as good as him,” fuckin _yeah_ ! You like to have unharmed cargo delivered? No surprise, it’s not even that difficult to get from point A to B without _fucking falling._

Not a single person has mentioned the tattoos on his forehead. It’s _weird_ , he’s almost self-conscious— _almost_. The first few times, he’d hidden them. Having the upper half of his face covered made him look like an ordinary porter. The first one he’d forgotten to cover only looked at him a little strangely, but gave him an S score anyway. Even with his name— he doubts there’s many “Higgs”s in the UCA— perhaps Bridges didn’t want to concern their customers with what Sam was going through. He does another delivery. Then another. He gets caught in the mundane “don’t trip, keep away from MULEs,” that he nearly walks off a cliff. 

“Shit,”

There’s a climbing anchor wedged between the rocks. The fall probably would’ve killed him. Even if he can summon Mekal and that rat—who he’s seen follow him here and there— he might not be a repatriate anymore.

Higgs sighs. His arms and legs ache. He yawns. 

It’s a terrifying thought, to think Sam could see his mangled corpse at the bottom of a cliff. Then he’d cause a void-out… _shit_. He turns his head to the sky and sees black tendrils near his next delivery. 

So he takes a turn and completes one that he was going to do afterwards. Maybe a quarter of a mile off, is a MULE camp. The scanners gleam at him tauntingly. He _swears_ one almost sees him, if he didn’t duck behind a rock until he turned around. “Damn preppers,” he curses, “living in these fucked up places,”

He prefers to port by foot. He won’t _always_ do it, of course he’ll use the highways if it’s there; but well, he’s gay and probably walks twice the speed Sam does on average. The speed skeletons are plenty fuckin useful, though. He yawns between pants. He’s barely in a jog, but he’s never been able to _not-walk_ this long without hacking his lungs out. Curse his Daddy for keeping him indoors for most his childhood...that’s half the reason he never started smoking— his lungs just couldn’t fucking _take_ it. He probably shouldn’t even be running on such little sleep. He doesn’t want to pass out on the ground, in the open. Even if he’d gotten his old clothes— more importantly his shawl, but if worse comes to worse…

Softly, thunder cracks in the distance. He feels a heavy drop fall on his head. 

The throws the hood over his head and jumps down a crevasse. Halfway down the face of it, there’s a little hidey-hole of sorts. It’s dry and seems to keep most of the rain out. Higgs flicks his wrist and the UI comes up. He has to wait here for thirty fucking minutes. 

He’s got expensive fucking cargo. He’d kept walking otherwise. Higgs cusses as he brings a hand up to feel the aged hair. It’s… whatever. It’ll grow back soon, he reasons. 

The cargo’s fine. So is his own apparel. He’d made it after all and it’s completely water _and_ timefall proof. Not that he’d entirely needed it when he was under _Her_ control… he sighs. Then yawns. Higgs has nothing to pass the time. 

Well…

He sits down against the deeper wall of the cave. It’s not terribly spacious, but he’s not claustrophobic. He thinks of Sam… he likes him so much his heart _hurts_ sometimes, some place in his chest clenching. He’d been crushing hard for him ever since he’d first seen him. He wonders if Amelie knows. Then stops thinking about her. 

He can see his breath when he slides his hand down his side, to his thigh. He shrugs off his gloves and undoes some of the straps on him. 

He wonders if Sam feels the same way. Probably not… maybe. He never fucking _knows_ what he feels. Higgs supposed that having to save the world kind of numbs you. 

He cups the hardening bulge between his legs. 

Higgs spreads his legs and slides his pants down to mid-thigh. He takes out his cock, just over half-chub. He should’ve taken a few of the pictures from his bunker… he’s done that kind of thing before— jacked off to a picture is Sam… he doesn’t need to know. The thought makes him moan. Fully hard now, he loosely grasps himself and can’t help but start a lazy pace. He’s in no rush; he probably has twenty-one minutes left to spend. His dry hand, only barely slickened by his pre, is _horrible_ almost on his cock. But he can’t find himself to stop… well, why _would_ he? He swallows a groan that’s hidden by the pelting rain. 

The air around him is cold, makes him want to shiver. It’s almost difficult to stay focused. Higgs thinks about the first— and old time — they fucked. He freely moans this time, hand moving just faster, _noisier_ now that he’s _leaking_ more. He hates how messy this gets. It wouldn’t matter if Sam was here, he’d let him—

His wrist cuffs chime so loudly he nearly shouts. 

It’s just a call from Sam. Heart pointing, he answers. 

“Higgs? Where are ya, you were supposed to be back by now.” By the sound of music, it seems like he’s in his private room. 

He swallows another noise upon hearing his voice, “Aw, you care about me, sugar? Got caught in a storm. Gonna wait it out,” his voice is more gruff than usual. Higgs’ legs twitch when he thumbs at the head of his cock. 

His hand is still moving. It’s sending filthy little sparks of pleasure up his spine. Sam stays quiet for a horrible second. 

“So you’ll be back here after that? I’ll order pizza,”

Higgs would laugh if he wasn’t jacking off. He still lets his smile show in his words. 

“I’ll—“ he hides an embarrassing moan poorly with a cough, “it shouldn’t be too long. Give me an hour, yeah?” He turns his head away from the cuffs and lets out a shaky sigh. 

“...Higgs,” Sam says. The sound causing Higgs to tighten his fist on his cock. He’s embarrassingly close… “are you _jacking off?_ ”

His hand speeds up as he moans again, purposefully louder. “M-maybe,” he chokes out. “Maybe not,”

He’s sure he’s got a big dumb smile on his face from Sam finding out his _filthy secret._ Like he hardly hid it. He actually might come… just from hearing Sam…

He hears Sam’s _‘tch’_ and imagines him shaking his head with a smirk. His hair falling around his face; unless he has it up. 

“And what are you doing, Sammy boy?” He asks, nearly surprising himself with how smooth it comes out. 

“Literally nothing,” he says. Higgs isn’t surprised, but maybe a bit disappointed. “Hope you don’t expect me to _dirty talk_ right now,”

“N—nghh. No I don’t…” he whimpers. _He wishes he would_. “But— I’m close anyway,” he sighs, turning his head again.

Higgs thinks he hears him chuckle. It’s hard against the rain, barely having let up since he started. “Just from me talking?” He asks. Higgs can definitely hear the devilish smirk. 

Higgs’ eyes fall shut as he orgasms. He has half the mind to aim _away_ from him and keep his clothes clean. His release stains the ground between his legs. He’s breathing hard. 

It’s still raining. 

He definitely hears something that resembles laughter. Before he can demand _‘what_?’ Sam says, “you’re gross,” and ends the call. 

He just— _ends_ the call. 

He wipes his hands on his over-shirt and pulls his pants up. He grits his teeth till he can’t stand the sound of it ringing in his head. He tries not to think of how he just _fucked_ things up between them as he adjusts the various straps on him. 

_It’s fine,_ he tells himself. It's _fine._ It’s Sam’s fault if he has a problem with him. He’s the one who brought him back— let him _stay_. He’s gotta deal with him. Not that there’s much to “deal” with. Higgs isn’t some dependant little kid that needs Daddy’s help in everything. He can do shit on his own. 

_So you ll be back here after that ? I ll order pizza_

Fuck. _Fuckfuckfuck_ . God _damn_ it all. 

* * *

Sam doesn’t get Higgs. 

He never _has_ . Higgs has always been fuckin weird in Sam’s eyes. Though, no matter how strange the kid is, _no matter where he licks him_ , Sam’s always drawn to him. 

He almost hates it. He hasn’t felt this way since— well since Lucy, but he’d rather _actually_ die than have him and Higgs’ relationship turn out like _that_ . At least he wouldn't have to actually kill himself for Higgs to believe him... they can understand each other... Higgs won't try to _fix_ him. He almost puts in the order for the pizza, but then remembers he doesn’t really know what Higgs likes. He still probably has the messages from Peter Englert, but he wonders if he _really had_ a sister in the bunker with him. 

Nah, course he didn’t. He doesn’t put an order in. 

He’s still stunned that Higgs had answered the call while _jacking off._ He must really be falling for him if he’s willing to do _that…_ or just so cocky he wouldn’t care either way. 

Sam turns and looks at his figurines. At some point when Sam has first brought Higgs, he noticed the kid had rearranged them somewhat. Before they were in the order that he fought them, now they’re more or less ordered in difficulty. His large cat-tentacle thing is first. 

And also still in the _damn room._

The thing’s kinda cute, but he certainly won’t let anyone hear that. It leaves small tar footprints that disappear soon after. The cryptobiotes tap against the container they’re in and the little thing turns its head towards it, so much like a cat seeing a bird out the window. Sam fishes out of the bugs and tosses it the beast’s way. 

Its mask opens up to the terrible _not-anus_ as the bug is swallowed whole. He swears it grows the smallest damn bit. It’s… Sam likes the thing just less. 

Then he likes it _even less_ when the fucker jumps on the bed and snuggles up by him. 

“You fuckin serious? Get outta here,” Sam grouches. The bastard just turns at the waist and peers up at him, it’s little paws curled against its chest. 

Sam clenches his teeth. It’s _not cute._

  
  
  


Higgs comes soon after. Sam had long since pushed Bastard—he knows the thing has a name, but doesn’t bother to remember it— away, knowing Higgs wouldn’t let it go if he saw them together. Higgs is nearly brooding and Sam has half a mind to ask _What stick is up your ass_? Higgs throws his cape to the ground. 

Instead, he asks, “what kinda pizza you want?” As he flicks his wrist to pull up the UI to order. 

Higgs walks past him and to the mirror. He hums, a devious smile cracks across his face, “cryptobiote and pineapple?”

Sam halted in his movements and turned his head toward Higgs, still at the mirror. Higgs swears he hears a comedic _creeeeak_ as he moves. His wide, knowing smile doesn’t falter. 

“That,” he starts, deadpan, “is _disgusting_ ,”

Higgs laughs, bending over the sink, the corners of his eyes crinkling. He wipes wetness from his eyes when he leans back up. “Come on Sammy boy! At _least_ have pineapples!”

“Cryptobiotes on half or neither. I’m not letting the damn _flavor_ seep over to my side.” Higgs sees Sam tap the UI a few more times.

“What else are you putting on?”

“Sausage, pepperoni and mushrooms,”

Higgs wrinkles his nose when he says mushroom. Sam notices.

“Don’t like em?”

“Mushrooms are nasty,”

Sam kicks an eyebrow up, “but you’ll eat cryptobiotes and pineapple.” He shakes his head— just as Higgs has imagined. 

He finishes ordering. Sam walks over to the mirror. There, he sees what Higgs is stressing over. 

A small streak, almost directly in the center on top of his head, is aged, gray hairs. The hair is lightly curled against the light brown. It’s an odd contrast. 

“I’m— I used to be able to tell whether it was going to rain…”

Sam’s shocked at how— _depressed_ he sounds. He… it’s just hair. 

“It’s just hair,”

“It’s not _about_ that, Bridges, it’s about my _abilities_.” Higgs drawls, straightening up. 

“Well you’re still able to make _Bastard_ over there, yeah?” Sam points towards his tar-cat. His tat… his… car… _hm_. 

He sees Higgs’ face light up, “you named him something else? Aw hell,” and turns his face to hide a smile. But, he turned further in front of the mirror, and Sam was still mostly behind him. He lets his own smile show. 

“Do you find him cute?” Higgs asks, tone almost innocent. 

“No.” Sam says flatly, crossing his arms. He blinks when he sees Higgs pull out something from his pocket. It’s— eyeliner. _Christ_. 

“Surprised you went so long without it.” Sam mentions. 

Higgs huffs, distracted as he applies the makeup. “My _aesthetic_ isn’t complete without it.”

Sam chuckles and sits back down on the cot. There’s still about 15 minutes till the pizza is ready. 

Mekal— _Bastard_ jumping onto the sink startles Higgs so much, he flinches and— “ _ow_ !” jabs the pencil into his eye. Sam watches, amused, as he carefully rubs at his eye. The heel of his hand comes back smeared with black. When Higgs turns his head to see the mess— which there _is_ one— Sam gets a full view of one eye, outlined in smeared black and—

Sam’s breath catches. 

He finds he really doesn’t mind the way Higgs looks. He really, _really doesn’t mind_. Sam finds that he wants to— to hold his face, press his lips to—

“Sammy?”

Higgs’ voice, that nickname, snaps him out of his stupor. He blinks a little dumbly. He turns his head to the ground. Clears his throat. 

Higgs turns back towards the mirror. He moves onto the other eye without cleaning the smudged marks. Sam tilts his head to the side so he could side-eye the profile view of Higgs. 

He remembers what Higgs had confessed on the beach. 

Sam clears his throat; “I’m gonna go get the pizza.” Even though there’s almost ten minutes for it to finish. 

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr is Higgs-the-god! Leave a kudos and comment, yeah?
> 
> Also!! I don’t have *that* much plot for this series, so if y’all wanna see some of these idiots go through something together, hmu on tumblr or somewhere; I’ll see if I can fit it in the plot, but that’s still a fair way away


End file.
